Remain Nameless
by Walden.Pond313
Summary: Nasir was just doing his job. Agron is...not what he expected.


**__**Hi people! This is my first Agron/Nasir fic.

Enjoy :]

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**_Remain Nameless_**

"…And he just disappeared into the night?" Agron asked his companion. It was their second time meeting up like this, sequestered from the rest of world. Like the first time, he'd shown up for the sex and stayed for the conversation.

"Haven't seen him since." His companion replied, taking a long drag from his cigarette. Watching dusky pink lips wrapping around the long white cylinder reminded him of earlier activities. His friend had an oral fixation that Agron was happy to exploit.

"I'm sorry."

"It was almost 15 years ago."

"Yes but some wounds don't heal. I can't imagine…" Thinking of Duro hurt. Their…livelihood afforded them certain freedoms, but Agron hated the constant worry in his heart. Was his brother safe? Was he alive? "I too have a brother"

"Are you close?"

"Very. He's my younger brother. I practically raised him."

"Really? Do you mind if I ask why?"

"No, I suppose not. It's not fair if you're the only one pouring their guts out."

"Quid pro quo?" Pink lips curved. Coffee colored eyes sparkled with curiosity. If Agron were a different man, lived a different life, he might think himself in love.

"I'm afraid my story isn't exactly happy. Do you think you can handle that?" His companion nodded for him to continue, so he did. "My father died when I was nine, Duro couldn't have been more than two or three. We had to leave our upscale apartment in berlin for something more economic. My mother was a home health nurse, but she started working nights at the hospital as well. This left me and my brother alone, sometimes days on end. But, we were fine. There was almost always food, and I only had to miss one year of school before Duro could be enrolled in pre-school.

When I turned eleven, everything started to change. Mother started to work less, which meant we had more time with her. She began cooking for us, reading to us, playing games with us. It was like she was a whole new person. For the first time in two years we had real Christmas presents. It was a few days after Christmas she introduced us to Herr Strauss.

He was polite at first. It wasn't until they were married that he cracked. It started small. He would make passive aggressive threats if he saw us do something he thought wrong. He would criticize my mother until she stopped what she was doing altogether. The wickedness of Herr Strauss was not apparent to me until a year later. When Duro was in Kindergarten, the staff considered me his emergency contact. They never changed it back to Mother. So when I got a call telling me my little brother wasn't at school, I panicked. The worst thoughts flew into my head. Kidnapping, murder, car accident. I raced home to tell my mother only to find her and Herr Strauss sitting calmly at the table.

'What happened? Where is Duro?' I asked. Mother stared at me blankly, but Herr Strauss…he had a sickening gleam in his eye.

'Your brother decided he would behave like an animal this morning. So I treated him like one.'"

Agron was pulled from his nostalgic reverie by his companion's voice.

"What did he do to your little brother?"

Agron laid his head on one of the soft hotel pillows. He could feel his temper building as he spoke of Herr Strauss. He attempted to calm himself in order to finfish his story.

"I found my little brother in a small dog cage. There was a padlock on it. He must've have been there for hours. It made me sick to think about. I'd been at school, laughing with my friends while my little brother was squeezed into an animal cage. I tore apart their bedroom looking for the key. I had even started tearing up there bedding. I was so angry, I wanted to break something. Strauss stopped me before I could. He pulled my collar, held me to the ground by my throat…the rest of that night is hazy. I remember waking up the next morning, Duro at my side. He's been there ever since."

And Agron stopped there.

"That can't be it. Please, you can't leave me to think you grew up with that horrid man." The worry in his companion's voice was so sincere.

He wanted to tell so badly. But revealing that he'd spent the next 6 year training to be a killer was something that could be brought up in conversation, no matter how intimate.

"No, no we uh, lived with a cousin of mine until I was eighteen. Then I obtained guardianship over my brother and we fled the country, as it were." That part was mostly true. That had fled with their cousin Donar and his posse (which included Lugo, Nemetes, and Sax). "We were adopted into a ragtag little family. I have this friend who collects strays. Spartacus. He's honestly and older brother to me. And Crixus, and…everyone. For helping me and my brother, I would do anything for them."

"Tell me about him, about them." Agron looked over at the man. Tiberius. His gorgeous dark hair lay in disarray around his shoulders. His tan skin was beginning to lose the flush from earlier exertions. He wanted to tell this man everything. That would be a disaster.

"I cannot." Agron left the comfortable bed in order to cross the room. He was in desperate need for a drink. The wine they'd ordered earlier now sat in a bucket of water. Chuckling, Agron pulled out the cork of the Prosecco. "It is not my story to tell."

He heard Tiberius shift on the bed. "Please, these men extended such a kindness to you. I'm eager to hear of your Spartacus, Oenomaus, Crixus, the whole lot of them."

Agron's entire body froze. He carefully set down the wine bottle. He moved towards the window, closing the curtain. He moved his hand under the window sill. Next he opened the drawers of both night tables, removing the phone directory that lay within. As he moved towards the TV, his companion finally spoke up.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for any wireless devices. Normally, I'd bring my laptop to do a thorough sweeping, but I didn't think it would be necessary." He turned to find Tiberius aiming a gun at his chest. "My mistake." He cursed his lack of clothing. Not that it mattered; he'd only brought a small knife for insurance. "So, I'm guessing your name isn't Tiberius."

"Agent Nasir Farid, at your service."

"Funny, I didn't know prostitution was a part of standard Mossad protocol."

"I'm with INTERPOL actually. And this," Nasir's voice broke. A self-deprecating smile spread across his face. "This certainly is not going in any report."

"How is your partner going to feel about that?"

"This was a solo mission." Nasir closed his eyes wearily. He dropped the gun into a less threatening position. "You can stop looking so paranoid. There aren't any bugs in here. A personal request on my part."

"Smart move, that. Keeping yourself holed up with the crazy German assassin. _Mein Gott_, what are they teaching you kids these days?"

"It was a tactical maneuver. I thought you'd be more likely to spill the goods if we were alone and…intimate."

"How did INTERPOL even find me? London had been a last minute pit stop. I wasn't even planning to stay until," he quickly looked away from the agent. "Well, you know."

"We hooked up Wednesday night. You face was on my desk that Friday. They ran some facial recognition software using CCTV footage. My boss personally sat me down and told me that I was to find out everything I can about you and your brotherhood."

"You mean you don't know everything about me already?" Agron didn't know if he was proud or offended.

"No, you're relatively unknown. We have pictures of you with Spartacus and Crixus. Along with other suspected members of the brotherhood.

All it took was a moment. One moment of weakness for Agron to pounce. He snatched the gun from Nasir's limp hand and aimed it at his head.

"In effect, what you're telling me is that I'm just a face." A nod was his only answer. "Interesting. That means the only person that could change my status is currently sitting in this room." He switched the safety off. "Now, I don't want to put a bullet through that pretty face, but I have to protect me and mine."

So this is what it had come to. Nasir knew the instant his personal and professional lives crossed, there would be trouble. Agron had been to perfect a prospect to be a gift from the fates. Only curses came gift wrapped as outrageously attractive and successful men. And now, thanks to his unfortunate taste in men and employment, he was going to die a gruesome death. With his eyes closed, he awaited his fate.

The shot never came. Instead a strong hand gripped his hair, forcing his head and neck to tilt upwards. Brown eyes fluttered opened and locked on to pale green ones.

"Do not mention my name." Agron's slightly accented voice commanded. "I can't stop you from hunting me and others down, that's is the nature of your job. But if I find out you've mention me, my brother, or anything I told, I will be forced to end your life." Although his words were harsh, his eyes and mouth had softened. He slowly lowered his lips onto Nasir's.

The kiss was short and sweet. There was and underlying tenderness that bent Nasir to the assassin's will.

"I'll see you later, Little Man." With that, Agron moved to leave.

"Wait!" The assassin turned. "A few years ago a girl, Naevia, was reported missing thanks to the brotherhood of Batiatus. She isn't…dead, is she?"

"Naevia? Dead?" Agron had the nerve to laugh. "God in heaven, no. Naevia is very much alive. She's married, with two kids. The youngest happens to be my godson."

Relief spread through Nasir like a river. Naevia was safe. A weight was lifted off his shoulders. His head sunk into the mountainous comforter. Any personal animosity he felt toward Spartacus began to dissipate. "Thank you."

When he looked up, Agron was gone.


End file.
